


Better Angels

by WandererRiha



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Plothole filler, christmas carol?, inbetween, meanwhile the turks, scrooge effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: “Right. I get it. I’m a terrible human being and unless I straighten up and fly right I’ll be crushed by my own ambition.”“You’re not wrong, but that’s not why I’m here.”
Comments: 13
Kudos: 9
Collections: FF7 Fanworks Exchange '20





	1. The Haunting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoneGravitas (AntiGravitas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiGravitas/gifts).



“You know, I knew Sephiroth.”

Rufus started and whipped around. There was no one there. The field of yellow flowers stretched on for miles. Where was he? There was no open land like this in Midgar, or even around Midgar. He didn’t know if this place existed anywhere on Gaia.

Maybe it didn’t.

“Yes, you’re dreaming.”

Rufus turned again. This time, the owner of the voice stood before him. A girl perhaps his age in a long pink dress and short red jacket.

“The local florist?” he asked, beyond confused. Why the hell was he dreaming about some random flower-- wait.

“You’re the Cetra.”

She nodded. “I wondered if anyone had ever told you, or if you’d found out for yourself. If nothing else, I guess Tseng might have said something to you.”

“Yes,” Rufus replied blankly. “He was supposed to capture you.”

“Too late now,” she shrugged. “You’ve got bigger problems.”

“Such as?”

“Like I said, Sephiroth. I knew him when we were kids. It took me a little bit to remember. I was really little at the time.”

“Before you escaped?”

She nodded. “Before I escaped.”

“How do we stop him?”

“I don’t know that you can. It’s…it’s not really him anymore. It looks like him but…” She shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

“Why are you here? Is this some sort of Cetra astral plane weirdness?”

“Kind of. I wanted to try to warn you, or even help you if possible.”

Rufus just stared at her. “Okay…” he drawled. “How do I know this isn’t a trap? Why would you help me? You’ve spent your whole life trying to escape Shinra.”

“I’ve spent my whole life avoiding the Science Department,” she clarified. “Slight difference.”

“That’s awfully diplomatic.”

“I work retail,” she shrugged.

Rufus couldn’t help snorting a laugh.

She went on. “Shinra’s never done anything for me, but I recognize it’s done a lot of good for a lot of people. But if you and Shinra are going to survive this, things have got to change.”

“Like destroying all the reactors?” he asked, snide. “Not gonna happen.”

“Your heart.”

“Excuse me?”

“Governing through fear is no way to lead. No one trusts a bully. If no one trusts you, you won’t be in charge for long.”

“Right. Because a flower girl knows all about running a Fortune 500 company.”

“I know that listening and problem solving is what really makes a sale. If people don’t like you, they’re not going to listen to you. That’s why you have an entire PR department. All I have is compassion and a pink dress.”

“Right. I get it. I’m a terrible human being and unless I straighten up and fly right I’ll be crushed by my own ambition.”

“You’re not wrong, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“My alarm’s going to go off any minute so please, by all means, get to the point.”

“I want to help,” she said simply. “Sephiroth’s going to summon Meteor. That’s why he stole the Black materia. That’s why he killed me.”

That brought him up short. “Wait, you’re dead?”

She nodded. “He stabbed me right through the middle. Or well, someone who looked like him did. Turns out it wasn’t really him at all, but that’s beside the point.”

What did one say to that? “Gods, I’m so sorry…”

She shrugged. “I’m mostly over it. The Lifestream’s not so bad, but we’re not here to talk about me.”

“Right. So. Sephiroth’s summoning a meteor?”

“He’s summoning _the_ Meteor. Possibly from the same cosmic rock that brought the Crisis to the Planet thousands of years ago.”

“So you want me to...what? Launch a rocket? Evacuate the city? How much time do I have?”

“You believe me.” It wasn’t a question so much, she seemed surprised at the realization.

“Look, dropping the Sector 7 plate wasn’t _my_ idea,” Rufus huffed, defensive. “I’m talking to a dead Cetra. I’m willing to suspend disbelief. It’s not like I’ve got any better leads right now.”

Aerith fidgeted where she stood, clearly wrestling with her own thoughts. At long last she looked up at him, mako-green eyes staring right through him.

“Find Sephiroth.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

“No, the _real_ Sephiroth. His body is still out there, and it’s not the one going around doing errands and stabbing people. Find him before Avalanche does. He can’t have the Black Materia. He just can’t!”

“Okay,” Rufus said, trying to placate the sudden urgency in her voice. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Promise me!”

“...I promise.”


	2. Staring Death in the Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus had known before he gave the order to fire, that it wouldn’t work. Diamond Weapon would stomp through Midgar like in the monster movies he’d watched as a kid. A lot of people were going to die, but he could at least buy them some time.

Rufus was reminded of the uncanny orange eye of the weapon as it opened behind the wall of ice and latched onto him. That had been the first time he’d stared death in the face. He had never felt like a prey animal before. It was not a feeling he had ever wanted to experience again. Now here he was, high in the Shinra tower of glass and iron watching his doom approach step by lumbering step.

Rufus had known before he gave the order to fire, that it wouldn’t work. Diamond Weapon would stomp through Midgar like in the monster movies he’d watched as a kid. A lot of people were going to die, but he could at least buy them some time.

Heidigger and Scarlet didn’t hang around, of course, but Rufus couldn’t seem to move. He stood transfixed, watching as his doom marched ever closer. They couldn’t even evacuate. What would be the point? Not one pie slice, but the entire Plate would likely be lost, and the slums below as well. Everyone was going to die. At least they’d be spared death by Meteor. Would death by WEAPON be better or worse? He didn’t know.

Bolts of light and fire erupted from the creature’s shoulders, careening straight for the Shinra tower. Rufus watched, strangely numb to it all, a laugh escaping him in a small huff. To think his father had died in this office. Now he was going to die here too.

_Rufus._

Not ‘Mr. President’ or even ‘Vice President’, just ‘Rufus’. The florist was back.

“Rufus, come ON. You can’t die here. Not now!”

He stared at her, bemused, blinked as she reached for his hand and managed to take it. Funny. He’d expected her to phase right through him.

“There’s a way out of here isn’t there? There’s got to be!”

There was, now that he thought about it, but…

“There’s no time,” he said simply. “What’s the point?”

“You can still fix this,” she insisted, “but you need to be alive to do it!”

He turned back to the window. It was as if time had stopped. The missiles hung in midair, barely moving, bright flares of star hearts suspended in space, waiting to crash land and turn him to dust.

“How are you doing this?” he asked, leaning forward to look.

“ _RUFUS!_ ” She yanked hard on his arm, causing him to stumble after her. The spears of fire rotated, burned, began to pick up speed. Clearly this little interlude would not last forever.

“Over here.” He took a step, and the moment shattered. The window imploded, fire and smoke exploding on every side. Instinct drove him to shove her forward, to try to get her out of harm’s way, but he only fell to the carpet as his hands encountered empty space. Above him, a beam of plasma seared the space where his head had been. The heat of it drove him into the carpet; made him cower as he felt his hair singe and his jacket smoulder. He fought the instinct to curl up, to put his hands over his head. If he moved, if he made himself any taller, he’d be vaporized.

Chunks of styrofoam and plaster fell from the ceiling, the chandelier was already strewn across the floor in razor sharp fragments. At last the light and heat of star fire faded to the lesser flames of mortal conflagration. It was almost a relief to choke on carbon and smoke, as opposed having one’s lungs cauterized with Kelvin-hot air and ozone. Rufus tried to army crawl out from under the debris, but it was too hot and too smoky to see where he was going. The floor was littered with toxic, flaming debris, blocking his way forward.

“Aerith!” he called and promptly began to gag. “ _Aerith!_ ”

Strong arms grabbed him from behind, lifting him to hands and knees so that he could scramble more or less below the worst of the smoke and above the fragments of wreckage. Someone wrenched a door open, shoved him through, and wedged it shut again. He was allowed to curl up on the blessedly frigid concrete of the emergency stairs for a couple of heartbeats before he was hauled to his feet, still coughing up soot and formaldehyde fumes. He really should have pushed harder for that lead-free manufacturing mandate last year.

“It’s okay, Sir. I gotcha.”

Sir? Who the hell had ever called him ‘sir’ besides Tseng? That wasn’t Tseng, nor was it the florist. The voice was clearly male.

“Who?” Rufus tried to croak and got no farther, the strain of speaking sending him into another coughing fit. Watching his feet so he didn’t fall down the stairs, Rufus marked a pair of black SOLDIER issue boots and heavy duty black BDU pants to match. A First Class? They didn’t have any of those left… Or did they? Rufus couldn’t clearly remember. Any thought beyond descending the stairs without breaking his neck was too much to deal with right now.

Eventually he did fall, tripping and tumbling down the last few steps to a landing. The corners were harder and sharper than they looked, and he lay gasping, waiting for it to stop hurting so he could get up and continue down.

“Aerith, he can’t go any farther…”

“I know. Help is coming.”

“Make sure he gets here. I’ll stay with him.”

“Thank you.”

Rufus blinked deliberately and tried to look around for the source of the voice. One of the speakers was Aerith, and the other sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

“It’s okay, Sir,” the male voice said. “Just rest for a minute.”

“Who…?” Rufus tried again, and finally managed to blink through bleary eyes, following the unbroken line of black from boots to trousers to turtlenecked shirt, at last to raven dark hair and a pair of brilliant blue eyes.

“I’ll stay with you. Don’t worry.”

“ _Fair?_ ” Rufus asked, dizzy with disbelief. Was he dead too? Or was he working for Avalanche now? What in seven hells was going on?

General Fair smiled. “Long time no see, Sir.”

Rufus gaped at him in open confusion. “You disappeared…”

“I died,” Fair corrected with a shrug. “S’okay. It was worth it.”

There was nothing Rufus could say to that. Instead, he lay back on the concrete feeling the building tremble as the floors above began to give way.

“ _Sir!_ ”

Rufus’ eyes snapped open. Now _there_ was a voice he knew. He did his best to turn, to push himself up, but everything hurt.

“Tseng…”

The man in question galloped up the last few stairs, all but treading on the frilled hem of Aerith’ pink skirt. Rufus dismissed her from his mind as she and Fair stepped back, and Tseng lifted him to his feet. Rufus crumbled forward, clinging to Tseng to keep himself upright. It certainly wasn’t a hug. Never that.

“Sir,” Tseng’s arms went around him automatically, protectively, keeping him vertical. “We have transport out of the city waiting. This way.”

They weren’t out of the building yet, but as far as Rufus was concerned, he was safe. Exhaustion caught up with him and he sagged in Tseng’s arms. There was an awkward sensation of being hefted, tilted, and lifted off his feet.

“It’s alright Mr. President. I’ve got you.”

Thus assured, Rufus gave in, and let the darkness surround him.


	3. Healing Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus wondered if he had done enough? Here he was, not even thirty and already dying. Actively. By inches, but dying nonetheless. Tseng might pretend otherwise, but Rufus wasn’t so stupid as to think anything less than a gods ordained miracle would help him now. Possibly not even then.

Rufus wondered if he had done enough? Here he was, not even thirty and already dying. Actively. By inches, but dying nonetheless. Tseng might pretend otherwise, but Rufus wasn’t so stupid as to think anything less than a gods ordained miracle would help him now. Possibly not even then.

It hurt to move, hurt to breathe. Even the weight of his clothing was painful, but hell if he was going to sit around in a hospital smock. No one got to look at his ass except...well...nevermind. Not that anyone would want to look now. He looked like he’d lost a fight with a mud puddle, except the mud wouldn’t wash off. Not to mention the lingering marks from his misadventures in Kalm, but Rufus usually tried not to think about that.

At first the doctors had been confused. Was it burn damage from the WEAPON attack? Geostigma had been a new phenomenon then, and while it was well-known now, Rufus had heard a dozen different explanations from a dozen different doctors. The only sure thing was that no one really knew what it was, how to contain it, or how to treat it. That, and it would kill you. Maybe not right away, but in the end, it would.

Maybe that was why she started appearing again. Rufus hadn’t seen the florist- Aerith- or General Fair since the fall of Midgar. Maybe they had better things to do. Maybe Aerith had led Fair and the others who had died in the chaos of the last few years to the Promised Land. Dad would have been disappointed to learn it was basically Cetra Valhalla, another word for heaven, a paradise for the dead. Rufus was pretty sure he’d never see it.

But he did see her again. Just here and there. It started with the flowers Tseng had left in his room, a single yellow lily among the bouquet. Rufus stared at it for a long time, wondering where Tseng had found it, or if it was even real.

“Can you see this?” he asked the next time Tseng came to visit. He held up the lily- the only survivor of the now wilted and discarded flowers- for Tseng to inspect.

“Yes.”

Okay, good. The flower was real. He wasn’t seeing things. “Where’d you get it?”

Tseng shuffled in place, suddenly awkward. “The church is still standing. It was one of the sites we visited on the off-chance there would be something to find. The flowers have all but taken over the building. I didn’t think one would be missed.”

Rufus nodded. Through the clear glass of the vase, he could see tiny filaments of roots sprouting off of the flower’s severed stem. If not for Midgar’s chronic pollution, these things probably would have taken over long ago. Probably some sort of flowering kudzu.

“Alright. Just curious.”

The flower had sprouted, and Rufus had been provided with a pot and soil for it. The single lily had become a window box full of golden blooms, and there was talk of moving some to the garden. When Aerith saw them, she smiled.

“Look at you,” she remarked, pleased. “I didn’t know you had a green thumb!”

Rufus smiled as best he could. “Hello again. Forgive me for not standing.”

She waved him off, still admiring the flowers. “Never took you for a gardener. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” He was too tired to banter with her. “May I ask why you’ve come?”

He thought he knew the answer, but she surprised him.

“I just wanted to give you a heads’ up. Zack and I have been...busy. Really busy. I assume you know about the Sephiroth thing.”

He nodded carefully, feeling the lesions on his neck stretch and burst, soaking the bandage with sour fluid.

“That looks like it hurts…”

Rufus offered her the suggestion of a shrug. “It’s fine. I’m aware of the Sephiroth thing, yes. Tseng and the others are working on it. Please, go on. What are we missing? What do we need to know?”

“I have an idea,” she began, “but I’m going to need your help.”

“Of course.” Rufus knew better than to argue with ghosts.

She was watching him, head tilted to one side, green eyes full of concern. Rufus looked away, not wanting her pity.

“Can you stand?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s just too much like work, most days. I’m not helpless. I’m not crippled just...tired.”

She nodded, understanding. “You’re sick. That makes sense.”

“Yes. So whatever you need me to do, consider it done.”

She smiled. “If I’d known you were this accommodating, I might not have tried so hard to hide.”

Rufus mirrored it, but his came out a little twisted. “I wouldn’t have been back then.”

“No, I guess not. It’s not going to be easy, but I believe you can do it. I’ll help as much as I can.”

“Have I done enough?” he asked, not even sure why he cared about her approval. Rufus Shinra had always done whatever the hell he wanted. Except... 

Her smile turned soft. “You’ve done the best you can. That’s all anyone can do.”

“Have I?” It didn’t feel like enough. It was his family who had profited off of the deaths of soldiers to build the weapons in that long ago war that had first launched their corporate empire. It was his immediate family who had nearly drained the Planet of her last drop of blood. Who had both accidentally and intentionally killed hundreds of innocent citizens. Mako, Sephiroth, Meteor, and now this… Would there ever be an end to this self-made family curse?

“I’m only one person. I can’t make up for all the things my family’s done. Not by myself.”

Leaning forward, she delicately touched her lips to his forehead. Rufus inhaled, shocked and surprised, and felt as if he’d taken his first true breath of oxygen in the whole of his life.

“You can do it. I believe in you.”


End file.
